Title/Series Info: 11th doctor, related to the first episodePairing non (gen)Rating: GSpoilers: not really -- it's AUSummary: What if the Doctor had said yes, and took little Amelia Pond 'five minutes' into the future?Author's Notes: This is my 1st Doctor Who story. :D

Amelia Pond’s Five Minute Adventure

“Just a five minute hop into the future, soon set things right!”

“Can I come?” Amelia Pond stood on her front lawn in the middle of the night, watching the magical doctor. She’d never met anyone like him. This adventure couldn’t end, not yet. Besides, she’d rather go with him to face a library, a swimming pool, and who knew what else, all inside one little, blue police box, than go back and face the crack on the wall alone--not to mention the fact that Prisoner Zero might be around somewhere.

He glanced up, his frenetic pace slowing for a moment, and he gave her a smile. “All right! Just a quick peek--mind you, it’s all a bit of a mess! Like me, really.” He jumped back onto the box, and climbed up, then turned back and held a hand down to her. “Up you go!”

Grinning, Amelia Pond ran forward.

“And…here! Oof, you’re heavy for a little girl! Have you been eating cement? Or maybe that horrible bacon…”

His cheerful voice held no insult, but Amelia grimaced. “Let me down. I can get down on my own.” She knew she wasn’t slim, like the popular girls. He didn’t have to rub her nose in it!

She got free from his grasp only to slide down into a big, huge, ROOM--a room in a box, a whole house, a whole building in the box! “Whee!”

“Whoo-hoo!” He shouted as well, sliding after her, the raggedy doctor. Like it was a game, a giant slide! Her nightgown was sliding up, but she grinned, and raised her own voice higher because, well, if it was a dream, an adventure, or even a nightmare, it was the best one ever!

“Whooo!” shouted Amelia, and only squeezed her eyes shut just before they hit the library.

Splash!

“Oh, blimey. Right into the pool, again! Sorry about your clothes.” The doctor shook his hair out, splashing her accidentally. Amelia squinted, and grimaced. Dripping. Wet.

He held out a hand to help her out of the pool. Her nightgown was heavy with water, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered: there was a library and a swimming pool, and a swimming pool in the library!

Laughing, she took the doctor’s hand and let him help her out, like she was a fine lady.

Best. Dream. Ever.

“Amelia Pond, Amelia Pond in a fairy tale,” jabbered the doctor. He seemed to like talking quite a lot. She hoped he’d never stop.

“Er--five minutes in the future. Sorry about the wet. Wardrobe’s over here.” He jerked a thumb, started towards it, turned around. “No, hang on--over here! You change and I’ll get started on the future! Prisoner Zero, all that. And we’ve got to get you home in time, before your aunt returns. Can’t have me kidnapping children. Talk about robbing the cradle!”

She didn’t know what he was talking about, but he flung open a door. She thought she gasped; she was almost sure she gasped. Because before her, before the eyes of one very wet Amelia Pond, stretched the most elaborate costume wardrobe she’d ever seen. She followed the doctor.

He grabbed a suit, and whirled away, behind a screen.

“You’ve got--”

“Everything,” said the doctor. A wet jacket flung over the top of the screen.

She jerked back, to avoid getting slapped in the face by a wet sleeve.

“You name it, I’ve got it.”

Indeed, he seemed to. She saw togas hanging next to bearskins, and what looked like a robe you could wear in a school play if you were playing Henry the Eighth--only authentic.

He emerged, adjusting a tie, wearing an outfit exactly like his last one, only dry. His hair remained wet. “Well? What are you waiting for? Pick something out!”

“But I they’re all grown-up clothes.” She stared around her in dismay. It was like being in a candy shop with all the sweets in the world, only you had a toothache. She’d love to play dress-up here. There was nothing Amelia loved more than a good game of Pretend with lots of dressing up and outfits. But these things would all fall off here, even if she wasn’t as skinny as Sarah and the popular girls from school.

“Oh, come on, Amelia Pond, Amelia from a fairy tale! Don’t tell me you’re going to let a little thing like that defeat you! The girl who makes fish custard, and bread and butter--never again, by the way--and isn’t scared of time travel or pools in libraries, says she can’t find one outfit for a little girl in a whole room this big?” He spread his arms. “Come on! You can do it. Get changed. You won’t want to miss the time travel. Fancy noises and everything.” He gave her a wink and a grin, and hurried off.

“I’m not that little,” she protested, goaded to try harder. But he was already gone, hurrying off somewhere.

In the end, she found a little dress. It was obviously meant for a full-grown lady, but it was quite short, and quite small, and it fit her like a longer dress. The top was stretchy so it didn’t matter she didn’t fill it out, and the sleeves were three-quarters length, so they went nearly to her wrists. She draped her clothes over the screen, left her poor wet shoes where they were, and hurried barefoot after the Doctor. It wasn’t cold in here, not like it had been outdoors.

“Doctor! Doctor?” She peered around a corner, feeling self-conscious in her grownup lady dress and her bare feet. “Doctor?”

“Come on, Amelia Pond! Hurry up!” His voice echoed; it seemed to come from everywhere. She peered down three corridors that all seemed as though they could’ve been the right direction. “Well? Are you coming?”

She trod with confident steps. It was so lovely being away from the crack, and the empty house at night, and seeing the insides of the time traveling blue box. Lovely, and dream-like. And if it was a dream, she hoped it lasted forever and she never had to wake up to nights alone and no parents, and an aunt, and school, and long, sleepless nights and that terrible crack on the wall.

“Hurry! Nearly ready! Don’t wanna miss the sound!”

She ran the last few yards, rounded a corner--bookshelves, and blue light emanating from the wall, and now she was here, here in a big, science-fiction looking room, with a big thing in the center, and there, looking wonderful and familiar and oh-so-raggedy, her very own Doctor.

“Here I am,” announced Amelia.

“Good.” He pulled a lever, yanked a handle, gave something a spin, and held down some other instrument, and a great grinding noise began, encompassing and surrounding and coming from the whole building. Or was it a space ship?

The room-building-spaceship-box shook and quivered, and the doctor held onto the big thing in the middle. Amelia stumbled and almost fell to her knees, and grabbed instinctively for a support beam--something long and metal and just as alien-looking as the rest of the room.

“Hang on!” he shouted; a moment too late.

The ship had bounced or jerked; she’d missed her first grab for support and banged against the beam instead. She clung to the beam on her second try. The ship shook and ground and jerked, and her head rang. She bit her lip.

But what was an adventure without a little danger?

Then it was over. He was working the instruments again, the machine was calming down, and the floor was steady again. She let go the support beam, and swiped her sleeve on her head. It came away with blood. Red on the blue.

She frowned at it, and walked over to join him.

“There we go, then! Five minutes. Now we’re all set. Prisoner Zero, here we come. I’ve remembered something, you see--” He turned to look at her, and his cheerful patter stopped.

“You’ve cut yourself,” he said in a stunned, quiet-serious grownup voice.

“I’m okay,” said Amelia, taking another swipe at her forehead.

“No you’re not. Cutting yourself. A little girl. A little girl!” he repeated, shouting up at the walls and ceiling and frowning. “Really, that isn’t nice!”

“I’m all right,” she insisted.

He whipped out a handkerchief and handed it to her. “Here, press this against it. Stop the blood flow. And when we get back inside your house, get yourself a plaster or two. I don’t have any on the TARDIS.” He stopped, blinking, and frowning. “Why is that? Why would I have all those books, and not one simple plaster on the TARDIS?” He shrugged suddenly. “Perhaps I never cut myself.”

“Or maybe you lost it,” said Amelia. A small smile played around her mouth. “Maybe it fell in the pool.”

The Doctor roared with laughed. “Ha! Yes! Good one, Amelia Pond. Ooh, you’ve a sharp wit, then. Come on, let’s see about Prisoner Zero. Wit won’t help us much there. Then again, you never know…”

Chattering, he headed to the front door and flung it open. She saw night sky, so like when they’d left. The house, not far up the path. “Coming, Amelia Pond?”

Grinning, Amelia dropped the hand with the kerchief to her side, and ran to join him. Even the ordinary wasn’t scary with the doctor. And as for Prisoner Zero, why…he was nothing at all.

“After you.” He held the door open. “Time for an adventure.”

Amelia stopped on the threshold. She stared. “Doctor.” She turned to him, a prickly feeling starting up her neck. “Does your magic TARDIS box fix sheds?”

“What?” He blinked around, not understanding.

“Only you crushed it before.” She pointed to the perfectly-repaired shed not far away, and looked at him, trusting him, waiting for an explanation.

He blinked hard several times, and swallowed even harder. “Er--yes. Fixed the box while I was at the time travel stuff. Maybe changed a couple of other things, too. Only don’t worry, I’ll change it all back, after one more quick trip. Only let’s catch Prisoner Zero, first, eh?” He grinned at her. “How ‘bout it, Amelia Pond? Ready for an adventure?”

Amelia grinned, and nodded, hard.

He held a hand out. “Off we go!”

Amelia took his hand, and ran to keep up with him. They ran up the path and into the house, ready to take on the world.